Tell me I was dreaming
by wickedlady 101
Summary: This is a song fic to the song Tell me I was dreaming: Travis Tritt.Warning: Death Hallow spoilers. Angst, Slash, TWINCEST: This means IINCEST. Summary: George is in denial, Fred has some unfinshed business. FRED&GEORGE,  Flames aboutTwincest will be burn


Tell me I was dreaming:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I also do not own the song Tell me I was dreaming sung by the very talented Travis Tritt.

Warnings: Deathly Hallow spoilers, angst, Fluff, Slash, Twincest. Don't like don't read. But hey if you really must flame for the twincest remember that it is all Hikaru/Kaoru's falult.

Author's note: Okay I haven't actually read Deathly Hallows yet I'm actually still reading The Order of the Phoenix. But, some friends of mine thought it would be real nice to inform me that my favorite character dies. So I wrote this little fic to help deal with the pain. Thus obviously some things are changed since I only have rumors.

The song is in bold.

_**Tell me I was dreaming…**_

Dancing just beyond the Death Eater's grasp George Weasley comes to an abrupt stop. Something was wrong; he feels it to the very core. Fred. Something was wrong with Fred. Shaking his head George tries to dislodge this sudden horrible realization. So thrown by this premonition, he drops his wand, which falls to the ruined floor. As the wrongness steals through him, he stumbles through the hall, ignoring the vile things creeping towards him, a movement beyond their reach.

Broken that was the only word to describe the intense feeling engulfing him. It swirled around him entrapping him, pulling him into the darkness where Fred now resides. Fred… the name is a beacon snapping him out of his daze. Within a second George is holding his wand and the Death Eaters are nothing more then a nightmare.

Yet, he stands routed in place staring towards the corridor his twin had taken earlier that night. He doesn't want to go, He doesn't want to confirm the suspicion growing along side the emptiness invading him. Then a scream pulls him from his apprehensions, slowly he takes a step in the direction his twin waits until the urgency grabs him and he is running blindly towards the end of everything.

_**That you didn't leave me here to cry**_

_**It was just my imagination telling lies,**_

_**Tell me that you didn't say goodbye… **_

Half way there he stops as the pain sweeps over him, blanketing him in a comforting numbness. Yes, it was really better this way. Just to give up, just sink into the desolation of his denial. Flawed, as this logic is George would do anything to turn away from what he knows he will find. The truth is so much harder to bear, to acknowledge, but he would have to do it eventually. So pushing away the selfish desire to melt into the darkness, George forces himself to take the last few steps to where his greatest nightmare awaits.

And there is Fred lying before him on a cot, his pale face still holding the remains of his last smile. George falls to his knees beside the cot, slowly with a trembling hand he reaches for his twin. His pale fingers softly caress Fred's cooling skin. Now the tears fall like crystal rain dropping, falling onto the light blanket draped across Fred's corpse.

George can no longer deny it, not when his mirror lies before him shattered, not when the connection that sealed them together is gone. Even though he was touching his twin, even though he could feel the substance of Fred's skin beneath the tips of his fingers he couldn't really feel him, not where it counted anyways. Not deep inside. Not even when he bends down and presses his own soft lips against Fred's cold ones, even then he can't feel Fred. It's in that moment he knows for sure that Fred was gone. For once in his life George was alone, utterly and completely alone.

_**When I woke up this morning**_

_**Wiped the sleep from my eyes**_

_**I found a new day dawning**_

_**And suddenly I realized you're gone…**_

George sits up in bed the remains of his nightmare cling to him, choking him in their thick vapors. Blinking back tears he stares out the window into the pre-dawn darkness. He lifts his wet eyes from the window and slowly makes a sweep of the room. Both wanting and dreading the sight of his twin's bed, then his golden orbs fall onto the bed on the other side of the room. Relief surges through him as he sees the outline of his sleeping twin.

After a moments hesitation he pushes the blankets off of his sweat soaked body and climbs out of bed. Taking a deep calming breath George slowly makes his way over to his twins cot. As his reaches out and touches the blanket draped over Fred, an image swirls before him. Death is standing above Fred's smashed body. The phantom reaper flashes George a malicious smile before turning back to Fred's corpse. For a moment it hovers above him before bending down and licking Fred's face with its long blackened tongue.

George sways as dizziness over takes him, and before he can dismiss the image as a lie he falls hard to the ground.

In the middle of the bed Fred bolt's up, "George?"

George pulls himself off of the ground plopping himself down on to the edge of Fred's bed. "Fred… Is it really you? "

"George?"

Not giving his twin a chance to reply he jumps onto Fred, folding himself into Fred's arms.

Fred wipes a stray tear from George's eye, "What's wrong?"

"It felt so real."

"What are you going on about?"

A heavy silence falls over the boys, and for the first time in his life Fred is unable to read his twins thoughts. "George?"

George moves closer to Fred, shifts further into his embrace. "Uh oh did someone develop a case of Narcissism?" But the joke didn't have its usual effect. There was no cleaver comeback, only a strangled sob for a reply.

"W…W…Why can't I …" but George is sobbing to hard to finish that sentence.

A soft haunted look fills Fred's eyes; he pulls George onto him, holding the sobbing boy fully in his arms. "It's okay."

George shakes his head, his ginger hair tickling Fred's chest. "Why are you so cold? Why can't I feel…" He starts to pulls himself out of Fred's embrace, but the elder pulls him back.

Fred shakes his own head, mirroring his twin's actions, " It doesn't matter I am here now."

George shifts in Fred's arms, pulling his head up so that he is staring into identical golden orbs, but that wasn't true anymore. Fred's eyes, although they hold the same color as before they also seem to be growing paler by the second. Appearing almost lifeless. "But I saw you. I…"

Fred bends forward and gently kisses George's forehead, "It was just a dream," He pauses looking deep into his brothers eyes. "If we don't acknowledge it…"

"Then why can't I feel you. I should feel you but I…I…" George's fingers tremble as they slide onto Fred's chest, resting over his heart, "I can't feel you in here."

Fred begins to cry. George stares at him, he can't remember the last time he ever saw his twin cry. It was such an unusual sight that it almost made him forget the horrible truth that was lingering just beyond the surface of their mutual fantasy.

"All I wanted was to stay."

"Then don't go," George clings to him, deep in the recesses of his mind he marvels on the fact that within this moment he has had more physical interaction with his twin then in his entire life. Life that is the problem now wasn't it? "Please, stay."

Fred is growing paler and paler by the second, but that really isn't the way to describe it, it's almost like he is fading into the darkness that surrounds them, becoming one with the shadows.

"You know I can't, Georgie," Even as he speaks the words Fred has almost faded from site. "I am glad I got to see you one last…" Then he is gone.

George falls back onto Fred's bed, curling up on himself, rocking back and forth until the tears finally cease and he falls into a haunted sleep.

As George coils himself deeper into the thin blanket, trying to outrun the truth that keeps repeating itself in the confines of his dream, Fred reappears.

_**I am in a state of confusion**_

_**I hope things aren't what they seem**_

_**If this is really happening **_

_**Just let me go back to dream your home…**_

Fred could feel them growing closer; already pale treads of light were invading the room. He had escaped them twice already, had slipped away before they could claim him. He had spent the last two weeks avoiding their detection by haunting George, yet until tonight he had not made his presence known. But he's running out of time and he would not get another chance.

Fred looks down at George as he twists in his sleep. Emotions he had denied his entire life spring into existence. These 'new' feelings swirl before him, the irony of his fate is not lost on him. Now more then anything he wishes he had admitted that what he felt was not brotherly love. Now he would have to wait an entirety to tell George, wait until the moment his twin is finally given back to him. And this realization is just too much, and so without thinking, he brushes a shadowy hand threw George's hair, his fingers linger in his twins ginger locks for only a moment before they slide to the contours of his handsome face. …And who's being the Narrastic one now, Fred smiles but it is without humor. He stares down at the perfect canvas laid out before him. His hands shake as they ghost across George's soft skin. Briefly his mind questions the sanity of such a thing. That perhaps he was being just a little to selfish, that perhaps this would hurt George more then it will help him, but to be honest Fred no longer cared. Not when that light was spinning faster and faster towards him, and he was fading again. It was now or never.

So he pulls his twin's sleeping form into his arms, and before he even realized it, before he could stop it, he found George staring up at him in confusion, as Fred's lips brush against his. Ignoring the lingering doubts circling his mind, George's fingers find their way into Fred's hair. They twine deep within the ginger substance of Fred's half translucent locks, until he's gripping, pulling, desperate to get closer.

Encouraged Fred deepens the kiss. Lips fall together, breaking apart then falling together again like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like by this mere act of deviance they would be given the power to defy even death, but it cold not be done, The Phantom Reaper would not be defeated.

Swirls of light penetrate their dark haven, forming a solid ball of white-silver light in the middle of the room. Ropes of silvery thread reach out from this ball and grasp onto Fred pulling him away from George and towards the glowing ball.

"No," George screams as he flings himself off of the bed and runs towards the struggling apparition of his twin; and just as Fred is pulled into the abyss, George's shaking hand coil around Fred's left wrist keeping him momentarily suspended between the two worlds.

Fred reaches out with his right hand and gently caresses his twin's face, before pulling his mirror's face to his own, and softly brushing his lips upon George's one last time. He pulls away, a sad smile sits on his lips. "Even if it takes all of eternity I will be waiting." Then the threads yank him out of George's grip, and he is falling backwards into the tunnel of the underworld, and as the ball of light folds in on it self, a single whisper carries Fred's final words. "Forever, I'll be yours."

_**Darling tell me that you didn't say goodbye…**_

Defeated George turns from the spot that only moments ago held his twin, and walks slowly back to the identical cots sitting across from each other. He lingers momentarily before his own bed, before turning from it and walking even slower towards Fred's. Once there he climbs back underneath the blankets, inhaling his twins sent. He closes his eyes but sleep will not claim him. Blinking them open, his eyes fall once again to his own bunk. "Fred," his voice is soft barely a whisper, "This isn't a dream is it?"

But his question remains unanswered.


End file.
